


Night at the Museum AU

by cosette_valjean_pontmercy



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 07:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosette_valjean_pontmercy/pseuds/cosette_valjean_pontmercy





	Night at the Museum AU

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bea_The_Cat123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bea_The_Cat123/gifts).

\- Sir, welcome to the Parisian Museum of Romanticism – Mr. Gisquet stared judgingly at Javert over his cup of coffee. – The work of a night guard you are applying for is more responsible than you may think. What’s your past experience?

\- I have worked as a police inspector for 10 years before the department I was in got cut on money – Javert answered dryly, clenching his lips. He didn’t like people doubting or questioning him – Before that I was a prison guard.

\- Have you broken any rules, shown disobedience or neglected your job?

\- No – Javert handed him his stainless resumé – I’m here to follow orders. As my duty is and always will be.

\- Splendid. Quite a lot of accomplishments. Do you have any experience in the sphere of art?

\- No, I don’t. But this is not my job here. As long as I know the value of every piece of art, you can be sure I’ll keep them safe. I’m good at field work, as well as in an office, so I could stop criminals, sort documents or do whatever the job requires. – an iron note creeped in the expressionless voice of Javert.

\- Okay then, I’m quite disposed to employ you. Let’s show you around and present you to the rest of the staff – Gisquet walked towards the door and nodded at Javert to follow him.

A thing that caught his eye were twelve big marble sculptures – ten young men, a teenage girl and a young boy. They were all the same style and, according to the table of contents, made the same year. The author was unknown. Too many coincidences. Around the other rooms there were antiques from the many revolutions, people’s everyday life, culture, literature, art and architecture. Also busts of famous people and small wax figures. Nothing intriguing there – though Javert observed every detail.

Javert had to spend the next half an hour chatting mindlessly with unserious, lazy and stupid people. Why did he even come here? After losing his post as a cop, he had applied for multiple jobs and gone to lots of interviews. None of them was worth his attention up to now. All of them were the same – the smiles, the sweet talk, the so-called marketing. But none of his eventual bosses and coworkers was ready to actually work hard and get things done.

\- So what do you think, mr. Javert? Are you going to stay? – Gisquet wanted to know.

\- Mister Gisquet, I don’t intend to take this position. – Javert said directly and respectably. There was a weird thing about this museum, yes. But not enough to make him stay.

\- What a pity for such an amazing employee. Ah, I missed to present you to one more person! – damn it. Another bastard!?

Gisquet lead him towards the basement and knocked on a small, cracked wooden door. The smell of freshly baked bread, old books and candles could be felt through it.

\- Go in! – Javert heard a soft, but slightly distant “I was thinking very deeply and need a second to come back to real life” voice.

He knew he wouldn’t like this person.

\- Hello! – Gisquet greeted. – Mr. Javert, this is our restorer Jean Fauchlevent.

The room was full of sculptures, paintings, books, historical antiques and different supplies Javert didn’t know. They weren’t strictly ordered, but it felt like everything was at its place, ready to function right in the minute. Javert still didn’t like it that there were way too many things there.

A middle-aged man with a strong build and white hair stood up from the desk in the corner. Even in his out-of-date trousers and huge T-shirt he was extremely attractive. He outstretched his hand towards Javert.

\- Nice to meet you. Do you plan on working in the museum? – he smiled briefly.

\- I’m contemplating it – Javert only answered. – Besides, it’s a total chaos in here.

\- Jean still does a damn good job – Gisquet laughed. – Especially given that he has the right to retire.

\- You have mistaken, sir. – Javert corrected him. – The age for retirement is 65 and a 50ish year old man would violate the law if he did it.

\- Mr. Javert… - Fauchlevent blushed to the roots of his hair and nervously giggled – I am 65.

\- Excuse me then – Javert tried to hide his rage. Ugh. He hated making mistakes.

\- N-no, thank you! – the man reassured him. – Sorry, but I have to finish renovating a statuette for tomorrow. It was a pleasure.

\- Shall we go? – Javert asked sharply.

\- Let’s stay a little – Gisquet insisted.

Fauchlevent turned towards a bookshelf in the back of the room:

\- Cosette, do you want to come and assist me?

\- What is it, dad? – a turquoise-haired teenage girl with a sketchbook in her hand showed up. She was wearing a colorful flowered blouse with butterfly sleeves, much likely sewn and designed by herself.

What kind of idiot would put so much energy in appearance and clothing?!

\- I can teach you some things about working in the 3D space. Let’s finish this statuette.

\- But I almost drew chapter 6 of my comic!

\- That’s why I want you to practice and get better.

\- Btw… hello, mr. Gisquet! And who’s that man?

\- This is Mr. Javert. He’s thinking about becoming a night guard. – Her father explained.

\- Then I hope he agrees. Isn’t it great here, sir? All that romantic and angsty atmosphere, the aesthetic, the cool facts…

\- Amazing – Javert couldn’t pull out a more emotionless tone.

The girl got it.

\- I’m glad. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us, we have some work to do. Bye!

Javert and Gisquet said goodbye and exited the room.

\- What a strange person, right? Do you still want to leave, Javert?

\- Actually… I shall give it a try.

\- Excellent.

...

“You’re stupid. You should be sleeping, studying for the test tomorrow or finishing your comic”, Cosette’s common sense whispered.

And yet here she was, fully dressed, creeping downstairs around midnight. The girl checked on her father – as all nights, he wasn’t home. She reached the door successfully, put her sneakers on and turned on the flashlight of her phone.

Cosette was acutely aware that breaking the only rule set by her amazing father was not something a good daughter would do. But still – what reason could there be that he couldn´t tell her about his frequent absences after midnight? It made no sense. She had tried to figure it out multiple times – all unsuccessful.

Once or twice, when she was young, Cosette had the doubt that it may be something supernatural. Everything in the museum seemed so magical… especially the 12 statues in the biggest room. They were found 10 years ago in a hidden basement of a café called Mussain. The girl liked all of them, but mostly the curly guy with soft, distant, slightly anxious expression. She had around 50 sketches of him and couldn´t help but make him the main character in her comic. The rest were also there – she just looked them and decided what their personalities and stories were. Her friends thought she was either crazy or had a huge imagination. And she had no idea how to explain them the feeling she got every time she entered that hall. As if she had living, breathing beings in front of her, hidden by a hard, cold marble crust. As if they could come alive every second.

As she exited the garden and continued into the night, an unfamiliar thrill ran through her body. All her life had been so peaceful and ordinary, so idyllic and perfect, that she was starting to get bored.

“Next mystery to uncover: what my life was like before I met dad”, Cosette thought excitedly, remembering the scared girl from 8 years ago who found herself in the hands of a complete stranger, covered with dust and ash. He just told her that she had hit her head, but it was a sufficient explanation for her. Then he got her to the hospital and assigned her as “Cosette”. She was anxious and confused at first, but then let her guard down and started calling the kind man “father”. Soon she started school, made lots of friends and had the fun life every child deserves.

Cosette sighed in relief when she saw the museum and could turn off the flashlight. The bushes on the side of the street were really creeping her out.

The girl pulled out her key (how couldn’t the employees give an enthusiastic young artist access to the museum?). She opened the door and successfully sneaked near the guard’s cabin.

“Ha. This old bore from yesterday should’ve fallen asleep”, her heartbeat fastened, “I don’t care if the cameras will record me, I’m not here to steal, and I’ll come just one time-”

\- What do you think you’re doing? – a big hand gripped her shoulder.

Just then the big city watch beat 12 o’clock.

...

If Jean Valjean was good at anything, it was hiding. It didn’t matter if he liked it or not, this was all he could do in the present moment.

The previous guard never suspected he was the one responsible for this. That he could bring the museum to life.

He supposed the new world they saw every night was either him getting crazy or some unexplainable magic. At his 87 years, he could hardly handle a bunch of 19-century teenagers, small figures, busts and paintings, so Valjean took care of them most times. He used to lurk inside the camera halls when comfortable and install dummies or program the cameras to stop for short periods of time. Sometimes he invited the old guy out to get him drunk.

But now he was gone, replaced by a robot in a human body. “I guess I shall use the tunnel again”, Valjean sighed.

The man pushed the bookshelf in the corner. It was big enough that Cosette couldn’t move it. Even if she invited friends to help her, they would be disappointed to find nothing but a plain wall, covered with big tiles.

Valjean kneeled and pressed an almost unnoticeable bump in the wall. One of the tiles suddenly popped forwards, holding onto steel hinges. The man’s craftiness didn´t only cover arts. He stepped through it and pulled the bookshelf at its place.

He continued on through the narrow tunnel. It was dark, but he knew it very well and didn’t stumble even once. It was built a long time ago and no one knew about it. The house had been for sale for years when he found it and the owner couldn´t miss the chance to get rid of it, selling it for a ridiculous price to a “desperate weirdo”. It was in a quiet area – perfect for a hideaway. He encountered the secret tunnel accidentally while fixing the electricity. Judging by the small ornaments and money dropped on the floor, it had been used for thefts from the museum. All Valjean had to do was make the secret tile-door harder to open and more unnoticeable.

The fact that he worked in the museum was also useful. He didn´t even have to use the tunnel most of the time!

But this new guard, Javert, seemed smart and dangerous.

At last Valjean reached the basement of the museum, his favourite little atelier. A place he´d cleaned up for himself when he was hired in order to restore things more easily. No one bothered put cameras there. But he still had covered his runaway path carefully – this time with a double wall in the old fireplace. Someone who went to the fitness as often as him could easily press it.

Valjean found himself in the dim, dusty and dark maze, but he didn’t turn on the lights. Not yet.

The man checked his phone. It was 11:30 – the time when the night guard had to be closing the doors and not supervising the museum.

Valjean pulled the black scarf over his mouth, put on his sunglasses and most importantly – a hat to hide his flashy white hair. Just in case.

He took a bunch of books out of one of the shelves, removed the back plank and revealed a safe he had secretly installed. There it was – the huge, ornamented silver candlestick behind the chaos every night. Valjean pulled a match box out of his pocket and lighted it up. The otherworldly misty light slowly spread above the whole museum as an invisible shield.

...

The girl desperately tried to twist, bite or loosen his hand. Javert smirked because he didn’t know he’d have to deal with more teenagers today.

\- If only… my dad was here… - Cosette panted.

\- Save this for yourself and explain me why are you here?

\- Nothing clandestine, I assure you…

\- Then what? – Javert grit his teeth.

\- Umm… I’m here for a project for school. For art class, you see… The deadline is tomorrow, so it was urgent to check out some facts!

\- And you have a key.

\- They gave it to me because of my dad. I’m allowed to come over at the museum whenever I want.

\- Then why did you have to sneak?

\- I wasn’t sure if you’d let me in…

\- Kiddo, this is a violation of the law. Your dad will have to pay a good fine tomorrow. Now go home and do your research on goggle.

\- Google.

\- I don’t care. Get out. I’m counting to three.

Cosette’s face was filled with too much fear and disappointment than for a simple school project. He knew she was lying since the beginning (what an inexperienced little weakling), but planned on interrogating her father the next day. Also he had put a tracking device in her backpack while she was struggling. Just in case. Her dad sure as hell looked as a dangerous thief pretending to be innocent. Javert was sure. And his intuition never lied.

\- One. – the girl furrowed her brow, unaware what to do.

\- Two. – Javert grinned.

\- Th-

\- REVOLUTION!

The guard jumped in a defensive position.

He saw a bunch of young people, dressed with 19-century clothes. They were all marble-white. But terribly alive. And very, very angry.

A pretty boy with curly hair stepped forwards with an old-fashioned gun. The fiery rage in his eyes only hardened the wooden heart of Javert.

\- We are Les Amis de’l ABC. We’re raising the flag of rebellion. We’re going to escape this jail, once and for all!

\- Right, Enjolras! – someone yelled from the back – Blow the old hag’s brain!

As a mere guard, Javert disposed with just a small gun. But he was still better than these cosplaying, probably drunk clowns.

\- With this toy? Good luck, little girl – Javert clicked the button on his keys and all of the windows got grid at once. Then he took his gun, aimed towards the legs of the kids who were already running towards him…

\- Stop it!!! – someone pulled his hand enough to ruin his concentration.

Damn it. He had completely forgotten about the girl.

Before he could react, a little hand which would be marble-white if it wasn’t so dirty, grabbed his gun. He looked up and saw a little boy who was grinning cheekily at him from the chandelier.

Javert was pinned to the ground by the initial curly twink, a burly dude and a working-class furious boy.

\- Bravo, Gavroche! – an young man with an annoyingly big smile and questionable fashion sense shouted at the little kid. Then he turned towards Cosette, who still hadn’t recovered from the shock. – Thank you too, Mademoiselle Cosette.

...

Wasn’t it too early for all that dangling? Valjean stood up from his chair. Enjolras and the kids were up to something with the new guard.

“My bad”, the man dashed out of his cabinet, “I had to go see them even with the new guard. It’s exhausting having so many children…”

On his way to the front door where the noise came from, he almost ran into Victor Hugo’s bust.

\- Careful, Jean! I was friggin’ sleeping!

\- Learning slang from the visitors, ah, Vic?

\- It’s useful from a cultural poi-

Valjean couldn’t hear the rest of it, already on the run.

He tripped on the wax figures from the replica of 19-century Paris, was shouted at by Marie Antoinette’s painting and interfered a duel between two bronze soldiers. But he couldn’t let this slow him down.

Finally, he found himself in the hallway. It was a chaos there – a sure indicator of Les Amis. They had to be somewhere near. Valjean attempted to open the big hall. He used his keys, pushed and kicked. Nothing.

“Yeah, I knew it this day would come…”, he shook his head. He didn’t think more and sprinted desperately towards his atelier with nothing but the candlestick on his mind.

...

The biggest room was barricaded from everywhere. A furious and frustrated Javert had given up on breaking the door and was probably thinking of a better way to get inside. Cosette was watching the boys with confusion. It was like meeting celebrities – they were all like in her imagination!

\- Hey… Cosette? – this was “Marius”, the guy she liked best! – I think we owe you an explanation.

He looked at his feet and played with his fingers. He looked unbearably cute as a statue too, but now he was much more alive.

\- How do you even know my name?! How are you alive? What are your names?...

A tall boy with glasses Cosette had called Combeferre in her head approached them.

\- We hear and see everything around us during the day. At night, we come alive because of your father’s magical candlestick. We know you no worse than you know us. And we all have the names you gave us. By the way, I’m a fan of your comic.

Cosette needed several seconds to process all the information

\- Now, with no more delays, let’s go! We’ve got to escape this golden cage this night! – the leader Enjolras interfered.

\- Seems that we’ll explain you later – Marius smirked at her. – Are you helping us? We’ve been training and preparing night after night!

\- Now when your dad will have to confront Javert, this will buy us some time – Courfeyrac smiled and leaned on Marius’ shoulder.

\- Also Feuilly, Bahorel and Ferre found a way to get away through the window. It’s too small to have a closing system – Joly reported, as always wearing his backpack with a first-aid kit.

\- We’ll get caught – Grantaire shrugged as always. – It was a bad idea in the first place…

\- Don’t you want to live free, R, you idiot?! – Enjolras waved a finger in front of his face.

\- I don’t care as long as I’m with you, darling – Grantaire winked. – I’m coming for the alcohol.

\- Wait! – Cosette screamed, overwhelmed with info. – First of all, I don’t want us to deceive dad! And second, you’ll become stone when the sun rises!

\- Dust. We’ll become dust. – Grantaire smirked ironically.

\- And that’s where we come.

Everyone turned in the direction of the voice. Through the ventilation system on the ceiling popped up the faces of Eponine and Gavroche. A little hand was victoriously waving a lit silver candlestick.

...

Javert was able to break free of his own handcuffs easily. The kiddos had stolen all his keys, but not the simple black pin that held his long hair neatly smoothed into a ponytail.

The guard tried to enter the big hall or even overhear something. But it was no use. Had they barricaded themselves? Javert slowly started to realize that he was in the middle of his biggest nightmare: a rebellion.

He gave up on this place and headed towards the other suspicious one – the office of the restorer Valjean.

...

Valjean sneaked swiftly and cautiously into the basement. Javert could be anywhere. Now he could let his guard down...

\- So you’re the one who does fake magic tricks. You’re the one who sneaks in the night through secret tunnels. Jean Valjean, you are arrested.

\- Javert…

\- Your precious candlestick is gone – the guard came out of the shadows. – I heard everything from here. With these hidden holes in the ceiling I’m surprised the roof hasn’t fallen yet. I also know about the secret tunnel. And about the fact that all these teens are sculptures come alive.

\- Please, Javert, let me go. I need to stop them! They are planning to escape and be human forever with the help of the candlestick. But they don’t know how to use it and something can go terribly wrong! They may turn to dust! I know them from a long time, I look after them every night for years! They are like my own kids!

\- And how come you didn't know they were planning an escape? - Javert raised an eyebrow.

\- In reality, I supposed they were going to try something. - Valjean admitted. - They're all so rebellious, especially Enjolras. But I guess they used the fact that I was distracted by you, the new guard, and act tonight. Will you help me? If we work together, we in our turn can surprise them.

\- Well... I didn't believe in magic up to now and I'm not sure if you're lying. And I honestly don't care about you. But as my job is to keep the museum safe, I guess I have no other choice.

\- Great then! - Valjean smiled in relief. - Deal?

\- Deal.


End file.
